


Notice Board Comissions

by UnfinishedProject



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person Limited, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prison, Soft sex, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/UnfinishedProject
Summary: Little Red Riding Hood was caught by the Big Bad Wolf — well, not quite. When a young woman pays off his dinner and boarding for the night, what could a witcher do? Though it didn't seem like he had much of a choice than to take her along — and maybe he doesn't even mind it now.There's gonna be some loose continuity between the ficlets but not a tight knit story.
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Bail Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 1st//It all started with a strong drink.

Her head was spinning and all the red and black stripes that swam in her vision weren't helping. Nor were the metal bars that separated her from the wearer of the garment — so she was in a prison cell on top of nursing an awful hangover. She knew the coat well, just as its owner; she's been just by his side a few minutes ago — or was it hours already? No matter the time, he's been having a grin that's been more smug than his usual ones — and she didn't like that one bit. 

"Lèanna." If only she remembered what got her arrested, she'd find his amusement a tad bit less annoying. She wanted to spat back at Eskel not to play the hero and go calling her sweet names but, as it seemed, he indeed was the key to her freedom. His voice was somewhat chiding, too though she doubted she did something he warned against. "When will you learn that dwarven spirits are strong for you?" 

She leant back against the stone wall instead of a reply — if he came here just to gloat, he could get lost already. Though that answered a few things, like how entire hours missed from her memories. Or how she ended up with little clothes in the prison. Based on those two facts, she could put together a probable scenario — she got drunk way too easily and then slipped out of his sight. She then went streaking — wouldn't be the first and neither the last, she figured — only this time guards found her quicker than the witcher could; not the best outcome. 

"You came here to get me out or to just be an ass, Eskel?" Whatever the price was, she could pay him back twice — he knew as this wasn't the first time she needed Eskel to bail her out. They've been travelling together for three months now, ever since she paid off his tab and room in a Novigrad inn. He's been complaining at first, sure as hell considering her a dead weight — but she could handle herself fairly well and knew when to get out of his way. His complaints became few and far between and stopped entirely after the first night they slept together. 

"Do you think guards planning to send you back to your father would accept a bribe?" She let out a whine at his question — even if he's been teasing her, that was the last thing she wanted, going back to Lyria. That was the main reason she took up travelling with Eskel in the first place — fine, maybe it was the intense gaze of those golden eyes that had her melt into an imaginary puddle why she's been so adamant on sticking with him. 

"Eskel! You can't do this!" It wasn't like she could do much from the confines of her nice, little cell. She could've thrown slurs and curses at him but that wouldn't accomplish much either. Just when she was on the verge of utter defeat, she saw the glint of the torches on something metallic — the key to her cell based on the following scrape. The bars were thrown open and she marched past him without as much as a simple _'thank you'_ — she offered an angry huff and nothing else. 

His arms wrapping around her waist stopped her, pulling her back into his chest — her name all but a whisper against her neck. He pressed small kisses under her ear, the scars across his lips moving with a faint, pleasurable scrape against her skin — a few more sweet things whispered into her ear and she'll probably melt into his arms. She hated the effect his soft side could have on her — though sooner or later all sides of him had her purring his name and wanting more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lèanna is modified from Scottish _leannan_ meaning sweetheart/beloved to make up the word in Hen Llinge.


	2. Market Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 2nd//I can't believe I'm sitting in jail with you.  
> Flashback time to their first ever dual arrest because I kinda already used the prompt yesterday.

She's been glaring at the witcher, lips pulled into a frown now that she ran out of expletives to scream at him — it was entirely his fault and no one or nothing could convince her otherwise. There were no signs on his face that her words hurt him, though not as he was overly expressive anyway. Eskel grunted back at her once or twice but he was content with waiting for someone to get them out of the prison they were thrown into. Sure it was easy for someone with all the time in the world. 

"You should've let me handle it." Oh, but no, Sir Witcher here, wisest and strongest of all, had to go and make a mess out of it — snark had to be the only emotion they were generous with. She was almost done negotiating a deal with the merchant regarding the damage when he had to cut in and growl out a _"You should be glad to be still alive."_ — probably the least helpful thing he could say in that moment. It was no wonder, with as little trust towards witchers as it was, that the merchant called for the city guard and an official order of payment — which will leave them shorter on money than optimal. 

Now that she started to calm a little, she could understand where his remark came from — the griffin put up more of a fight then they expected. His undershirt still hung open, revealing a shallow gash on his chest; though it started to heal in the past hour they spent in the cell. She felt guilty, being so selfish and only whining about how her father would now find and take her home — how getting arrested was bad for her. With all their belongings taken, Eskel probably didn't have time to apply any potion to the scar to speed up the process — she would be screaming in agony if she was the one hurt. 

"Don't make that face." She took a spot by his side, no longer wanting to put distance between them — there wasn't much contact between them in the bare fortnight they spent together save for the occasional bed sharing. What face, she wanted to ask but remained silent as calloused fingers wrapped around her smaller hand, giving it a light squeeze — and the first smile she ever saw on his face. "We're going to get out of this, lèanna." 

The elvish word was unknown to her but it had a soft sound to it; she liked it. The moment was too serene to interrupt it with a stupid question of it's meaning — it was probably a term of endearment, based on context. She let his fingers trail along her exposed forearms, blouse rolled up from before the fight even though she was hardly bait. Her eyes drooped, wondering if it was some weird witcher magic that affected her or if she just grew comfortable with his proximity so quick. It wasn't all bad though, Eskel was probably the best cell-mate she had in her history of getting arrested — though she'd rather moments like this would come in better circumstances the next time.


	3. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 3rd//It is, in fact, a dark and stormy night.

They've been stuck in the inn for the whole afternoon, ever since they sought shelter from the rain. They talked, they drank and ate — and even though time went by, the weather changed little. It didn't seem like it would quiet down before sunrise, if anything it was just turning into a more violent storm. The shutters squeaked and creaked and she was tossing and turning in the bed. She listened to the rain patter against the roof for a while, eventually poking Eskel's side to see if he was awake — he was a light sleeper unless he really drank. 

"What is it, lèanna?" His fingers tangled into her hair, tilting her face upwards to where his was — though only he was able to see in the dark of the room. Lips found hers and she welcomed him with a soft gasp, giving way to his tongue to explore her mouth once again. She forgot about her complaints for a moment, holding onto his shoulders as she was lost to the kisses. He pulled back eventually, his thumb brushing across her cheek — he could be so soft with her and she couldn't get enough of it. "Can't sleep?" 

"Yes. Or no. It just reminds me of the day I left home." She wasn't sure she ever told him about it other than broad strokes — escaping from an arranged marriage and a cold family home. Lightning struck one of the higher towers and there was chaos all around, setting her plan in motion almost a moon cycle sooner. Though she made haste and rode away amidst the panic and rain — and by the time someone realised she disappeared, it would be too late. "Maybe I just need a distraction." 

Her name left his lips as a warning but they were united in a kiss soon after, his fingers already working the laces of her nightgown. He squeezed her body here and there, dragging the fabric away as best he could — she's been trying to help, a difficult task when she was melting from his kisses. Lightning struck twice before both of them were completely exposed, what little light creeping in illuminating all his glory. Her fingers glided against his skin, running her palms along hard muscles and old scars — his body feeling colder to her touch than the average. She pulled a soft sound from him — too soft yet to be a grunt or moan. 

His hands returned the favour, pushing her onto her back and crawling above her. She's forgotten about the storm for a minute — up until a following thunderbolt haven't rattled the shutters. She mimicked them, quivering under Eskel's fingers. It felt stupid to be afraid of a storm when she was in safety. He pressed soft kisses along her jaws, her mind blanking again on anything that wasn't the tingles in the wake of his lips. Her fingers raked his hair almost on instinct, tugging his lips back to her own before urging him down her body. There was a small moan, fighting its way past her lips even if it was to be drowned in the sounds of the storm. 

"That's it, don't hold back." His lips shortly disconnected from her skin and she whimpered. He's been gentle with her even with orders — encouraging her rather than demanding. And she complied, more sounds rolling from her lips as his kisses and caresses covered her breasts — feeling her buds harden under his touches and the vibration of his soft hums. Every now and then she shuddered but not from the storm raging outside, having slipped completely from her mind — the only thing reminding her were the flashes of light that allowed her to see. 

Her breathes quickened and she could already feel warmth pool in the pit of her stomach — Eskel knew all her sweet spots. It wasn't bad though, not the slightest; the odd few times she had great sex before still paling in comparison to how he could make her feel. She let out a whiny pant as a hand rested against her thigh, parting her legs around his waist. When his thumb wiggled against her folds, drawing a shaky moan from her, she could feel a small chuckle against her skin — he seemed to find it amusing every time just how easily he could make her aroused. Slick was already gathering at her entrance, begging him to be filled — she would've told so if only her mind hasn't blanked on the words. 

"Eskel, I want you." 

"You can't take me yet." She whined at his words, but she knew it to be true. Even if she was on the verge of letting loose from just a few flicks if his fingers, he'd say she wasn't ready. She screamed the first time he filled her — he wasn't that much bigger than the average but she's been used to less than stellar performances before. Or maybe it was just her skewed perception, the underlying gentle emotions behind her lust and desire that made him seem bigger. His fingers danced against her jawline as he claimed her lips in a soft kiss — climbing out of the bed shortly. 

He was back soon and a content sigh slipped from her as he kissed a line from her lips to her navel, hooking her legs over his shoulders as he did so. Her breath hitched with anticipation, her mind playing back the sensation of his tongue against her, waiting for the true feeling to take over. She's been more vocal now, not so easily suppressed by the storm. She's grabbed a handful of hair and sheets as his warm breath was replaced by an already sloppy kiss, suckling on the bundle of nerves. Her back arched, hips jerking her body against the bed — his hands holding her firmly in place. 

"More, please!" She hated how whiny she sounded but she knew Eskel liked any sound she made — he didn't care if it was undignified pleading for more or a garbled mess of sounds as long it told him about her enjoyment. His lips pressed against her more, tongue flicking her most sensitive parts. Her body soon tensed with a false high — his kisses and licks always made her entrance drip but the intensity was far from her climax. 

"You look lovely." He was trying his best to slip in compliments here and there — she confessed to him after one awkward and botched occasion that his silence was making her nervous and self-conscious. Profound apologies followed, something she's never experienced from someone she slept with, and she reassured him that it was fine, not everyone was talkative in bed. She saw him in a different light since then, knowing that he cared much about her happiness — that was the first step of falling for him. 

"You don't look bad yourself." She could only take glimpses at him, kneeling between her legs and slickening himself up with the concoction they purchased in a roadside brothel. Surprisingly, it worked as the madame claimed and there weren't difficulties or pain anymore. The wet sounds reminded her of the noise her lips made when working his shaft — the though pulling a dust of crimson to her cheeks. Eager, and hoping the display of embarrassment would slip his notice, she wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to close the distance between them. 

Her name was a breathy groan on his lips as he sank against her, his arms coming up to cradle her body. Her pants were cut short with a sweet kiss, slow and taking its time to explore. She bucked against him, rolling her hips to seek friction — it's been taking less and less time for her to grow comfortable under him. There was a soft whisper, asking him to move, and her fingers running along the scars on his cheek — she still couldn't believe her luck that Eskel was with her. And even though it was unclear what their relationship was, it mattered little when she was held in loving arms. 

"Yes, Eskel! Don't ever stop!" Her body was rocked with each thrust, still tame and shallow but enough to get her call his name over and over again until it drowned in a screamish moan. Fingers held onto his shoulders only to start running up and down his back with small scratches — pulling some groans from him. Her back arched already, his lips trailing down to her neck to cover it in small kisses and occasional nips as his pace quickened. He could've picked up even more speed, she's seen how quick his reflexes and moves were when fighting — and she was sure it could translate to the bedroom as well. But Eskel's been careful with her, so afraid of breaking or hurting her that he would never push past her limits. There's been other benefits of sleeping with a witcher she enjoyed, though. 

"Eskel, I'm..." She never really finished that sentence, somehow all the tenderness stripping away her shamelessness — phrases like _'fuck me harder'_ or _'I'm coming'_ suddenly feeling all too vulgar. But he knew and his fingers slipped between their bodies; rolling that bundle of nerves and drawing her closer to the edge. Her eyes closed and even though it was already dark, it felt like she was plunged into even deeper darkness. That tightness that built up in her snapped, flooding her with the rising warmth and waves of pleasure. Her sounds, incoherent and loud, filled the room — mixing with his groans of pleasure and the incessant rumble of the storm outside. 

She was clinging to him with every bit of her body, arched up against his chest — riding out her high as his thrusts lost their steady pace. Her lips moved against his in sloppy kisses, taking her turn to mumble again and again to _'not hold back'_. Eyes were drooping with a mix of bliss and tiredness though seeking his golden gaze; watching as they closed with a stutter of his hips. She purred as he buried his face against her neck, fingers dancing against his skin; helping him off his own high. 

"Lèanna," Eskel whispered, rolling them over that now she was on top. "Did it help?" She was confused for a moment; up until his question now she forgot about everything that wasn't him or how their bodies became one. Her reply was a soft hum of affirmation, nuzzling against him sleepily — content and too tired to be bothered by the storm any longer. Or much anything else even though she knew she should clean up or they will be messy by morning. She was about to push up with a whine when his lips pressed against her, mumbling his words between kisses. "I got you." 

They've been through a few awkward moments before but it didn't stop her from hiding away against his neck. He was gentle, wiping her down with a spare cloth — whispering something in the elvish tongue that was still unknown to her. Discarding the fabric, his lips caught hers in a kiss again, fingers tangling in her hair just like when she woke him — her heart aflutter and racing for different reasons now. She settled against his chest, tucked under the covers with a sleepiy smile — the storm now just white noise to her happiness. "Goodnight, Eskel. And I love you." 

"Yeah, good night, lèanna."


	4. Replacement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 4th//Character A has changed something about their appearance and Character B cannot for the life of them figure out what it is.

They've spent the day apart, doing their own businesses and promising to meet up at one of the inns on the edge of the town. She's been back sooner, making arrangements for meals and lodging for the night — no longer seeking separate rooms. She even had time to freshen up a little though not as if Eskel complained if her hair was a little messy or clothes crumbled — himself often getting back from commissions bloody and covered in dirt. 

Today was different though — there didn't seem to be even a single speck of dust on him. There was something else different about him but she just couldnt put her finger on it — and it would eat at her for the rest of the day or until a sudden realisation. She greeted him with a soft kiss, arms wrapping around his neck while avoiding the spikes on his coat — quite inconvenient in moments like this. Trying not to let the unidentified difference bother her, she pulled Eskel more into the room — cuddling up with him on the bed. 

"How did the job go?" A couple ghouls in a cemetery didn't sound like much of a challenge to her, yet he's been taking longer than jobs of the same magnitude usually kept him for. Her fingers sunk into his hair, ruffling the chocolate tresses with each caress — it was the same, maybe a little silkier like he had to wash an unholy amount of grime away. 

"Well. Got paid more than the notice said." That was always nice even if she still had more than enough gold for a month at least. After that, they sank into silence, the only noise being soft gasps and kisses. Part of her wanted grand adventures when leaving home, which she had a fair share of with Eskel — but settling down somewhere quiet didn't seem that bad now. She let her mind linger on the idea of a future that would never be but then shrugged off the thought when Eskel pulled her tighter against his chest. 

"Is this cause for celebrating?" 

"Maybe." His kisses grew more intense and hands roamed her clothed body — soon remedying the problem by pulling off each piece. She's been left almost bare within a few minutes, her fingers just now moving to push off the coat from his shoulders. Her task was increasingly harder with his lips pressing against her exposed skin and keeping her from removing any more of his clothes — not to mention she's been sitting in his lap, adding further obstacles. 

His fingers wrapped around her wrists, stopping her from pulling off his shirt — whispering a soft _'careful'_ against her lips. Her hands dropped the hem of his shirt, pulling back as if she's been burnt — he's never had a problem with her dragging off his clothes. She assumed it was a scar, still sensitive — not wanting her to see or fuss about it. 

"Is something wrong?" Well, she could get concerned when Eskel was seemingly unbothered by fresh injuries but it was different from that — like he it was less about him and more about clothes. Maybe he just wanted to take it slow, tease her first — it was becoming difficult to think straight when he's been touching her like that. But whatever was different, the change was insignificant enough that it could slip by her though soon she wasn't caring much either.


	5. Wishing for the Impossible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 5th//Today is all about those dream sequences. What is your character's subconscious telling them?

"Morning, lèanna. Slept well?" His fingers brushed across her cheek, tucking stray locks behind her ear — it was always nice to wake up in his arms. She purred softly, catching his lips in a soft kiss before replying — she's had the strangest dream and wasn't sure what to make of it. 

* * *

It was a sunny afternoon and she was home with her husband and a small child, no more than five years of age. She was baking a pie, her son being a little underfoot but it was more sweet than annoying. Her husband was outside, cutting logs for the oven — the dull thuds soon changed up by two men arguing. She looked out the window, her eyes widening; she never expected to see him again. She couldn't make out the words but there had to be insults and threats involved — her husband brandishing the axe, the other reaching for his sword. 

They both turned to the window, her lips still parted with the shout of "No!" she wasn't even aware of. Her hands trembled as they clasped over her lips — she's never seen either of them that angry. She ushered her son up to his attic bedroom, hoping it would be enough to keep him out of harm's way. Two sets of footsteps raced towards the kitchen, doors ripped from their hinges with brute force. She wasn't sure but it had to be her husband who made it to the kitchen first. 

"Please, don't." Her voice was weak, whiny even, trapped int the corner of the room — even the panting of the beast was louder than her voice. He no longer looked like the man she married — he always looked wolfish but he was one now. His voice was but a growl as he accused her of things untrue — she hasn't met the witcher for long years since they married. She could've protested the claims but a flick of his hand would be enough to silence her — or even kill her. 

She watched frozen in fear as sharp claws glinted in the sunlight, raised and ready to strike — scraping up only the plaster on the wall as she ducked. Though it wasn't her own action that saved her life — the silver sword still sticking out of the wolf's back. Her eyes met the golden ones she hasn't seen in years. They were silent for a moment and it was only broken by her sobs against his chest. 

"Lèanna, where's the child. He too-" Her palm pressed against his lips, shaking her head. She knew what he was thinking but it couldn't be true; the child couldn't be from her husband even if she's been faithful all seven years of their marriage. 

"He's yours." 

**_"Lèanna, witchers can't-"  
"I know but let me finish, Eskel."_**

Her claim had to be true — there was no other explanation for the eyes. They were the same golden ones she fell in love with all those years ago, the same ones which now stared at her incredulously. She called for her — their — son, meeting him in the main room of the house; he didn't need to see the corpse and carnage. Even though he was getting heavy for her to carry, she still picked him up — his closeness helped her calm down. 

"Any potions? Herbs, concoctions?" She shook her head at the questions — even if her husband did give him anything when she didn't look, he had those eyes from the moment he came into this world. It's been the only reminder of her adventures with Eskel, both painful and a pleasant memory of years spent with someone she loved — and with someone who maybe even loved her despite never having said so. "Can I-?" 

"Sure. Be nice to Eskel, sweetheart." The child was a little reluctant to leave her arms but eventually accepted to be held by him — soon after dozing off in his arms. Her fingers brushed the dark hair softly — her other cradling Eskel's cheek and drawing him in for a small kiss. "What do we do now?" 

* * *

Eskel's fingers have been running through her hair the whole time — now tangling into the locks as he pressed his lips back to hers. 

"Lèanna, you know that I could never give you that?" There seemed to be a sadness to his tone as if he was disheartened by that fact just like her. And even though it sounded nice, a family life with Eskel, it was too soon — she barely started living without parental obligations and family responsibilities hanging over her head. 

"I know. It was just a silly dream."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to write all 30 prompts as I'm quite overwhelmed by other projects but I'll try my best to write as much I can.
> 
> Update as of 28/06. I'm putting this one aside for a while but I might come back to this later. I'm focusing on Flames and Silver in the meantime.


End file.
